So, I dropped 20 matresses on my foot today.
Well, not really. I wish it had been.
See, one of the plays we’re doing at camp is “Once Upon a Mattress,” which is basically The Princess and the Pea.
And if you’ve been sheltered your whole life, like Felicia, I will tell you that it’a basically a story about a princess who tries to prove she’s a real princess by sleeping on 20 matresses and still being able to tell that someone has hidden a pea underneath them.
And if you’re like Felicia, and think that it would be impossible to feel a pea under 20 matresses, let me remind you that this is a FAIRY TALE.
At any rate, we clearly don’t have 20 matresses to bring onstage, we merely have a huge fucking cube made of plywood and 2x4s with 20 sheets stapled to one side.
Joey and I were trying to load it onto the U-Haul today to bring it to camp, when we lost hold of it while flipping on it’s side, and both tried to soften the blow by shoving our feet underneath.
This is a knee-jerk reaction for me, as I have saved many a set piece by letting my foot take one for the team, lest the precious fucking basketball hoop from Footloose crack in half.
But this particular set piece happens to weigh approximately 4,000 pounds, and my foot is now a delightful shade of red and purple.
It doesn’t hurt too terribly bad, unless I’m walking, and it’s awfully swollen, but since an emergency room visit is $100 with my fucking insurance, if anything’s broken, it’s staying broken.
I don’t have $100 to be throwing around.
I got my car checked today — it’s 15,000 mile checkup. They grow up so fast, don’t they?
Technically, it’s at 18,000 miles, but they wouldn’t do the 20,000, because they’re jerks.
Anyway, it cost $200, and when my mom told me this, I curled up into a ball on the floor of the office, and announced that I was going to sell my body on street corners.
She ended up paying for it. Go figure.
I was kind of looking forward to “earning” the money.